The Last Days of the Sun
by Nothing Really Specific
Summary: Boba Fett murders Zuckuss for a client and is cheated out of his pay. "It appears that your payment in regards to Zuckuss has been, shall we say- used." So in retaliation, Boba Fett does what Boba Fett does. He is assisted by Thrassk and Myko (OC). M: Descriptiveness, Suggestive Themes, Violence. Rewrite. PLEASE REVIEW!


**The Last Days of the Sun**

**Chapter One: The Beelzebub of This Situation **

**Coruscant- The Exterior of the Jedi Council Building**

The lights of infinity clashed with the lights of civilization. The horizon of the two gleams created a slight prism effect of red, green and blue that filled the eye with amazement, wonder, and innocence. The freedom of the spirit and imagination could finally be explored by children of martyred parents. The fear, the misery, the grief, all of that was replaced with honor, dignity, and pride. In the grand scheme of things, life was generally favorable. Unless of course, you happen to be Zuckuss.

Zuckuss, who was at the moment, finishing a contract, found himself at the end of a blaster barrel and thirty milliseconds from plummeting toward the Underground. If he were to plummet, he would pass the bars where Borgias usually group themselves in and the whorehouses where the underbelly sadistic counterparts usually group themselves in. He would go into the core the planet of lights that gave so much wonder and pleasure to the children of rebellious officers.

"Reconsider your position." Zuckuss said. "You know that I would never-"

"Position reconsidered."

The firing of plasma.

He fell past the lights of infinity the horizon broke for a moment as Zuckuss fell towards Oblivion- a fallen angel, who's only sin was being ignorant for not seeing this coming.

Boba Fett watched the body of his former associate fall and past the bars, the lights, the incest and corrupt city that lay underneath him, he heard a shriek of despair and the passing of a soul from one life to the next. Boba noticed something about himself as he stood perched like a vulture on the ledge of what used to be the Jedi Council Building. Technically, it still was.

Roughly thirty yards below him, across the street was a bar. Outside of this bar was a speeder and inside this speeder was someone that Boba Fett knew well. Boba was about three seconds from sniping the head of his 'friend' but he remembered something.

That wasn't the target. Zuckuss was, now all he has to do is get paid for his services.

_Slave I_ appeared from a corner and safely positioned itself so that Boba could enter. Fett had called in a homing beacon as Zuckuss fell.

Boba's 'friend' in the speeder exited and walked inside with a woman who looked strangely familiar. She had on a brown robe, similar to that of a Senate politician. Her hair was tied up in a bun, in order to fool the world into believing that she was an angel. But Boba Fett knew that she was not a Senate politician but a rebellious woman of standard, nor was she an angel, in fact, if you want to get specific, she was the Beelzebub of this situation.

His communications system came up as the hatch closed on him.

Boba looked onward as his friend and the woman he used to know walk into the bar together. It was as if he was looking into a world in which he was never born.

_She has moved on. That's good I guess._

A man of sinister disposition, powerful connections, and a graying beard came on his communications. Jonas Búka was the kingpin of the underworld, the hit organizer, and Boba Fett's main employer at the moment.

_It appears that your payment in regards to Zuckuss has been, shall we say- used._

"What do you mean-used? Are you saying that you cannot keep your end of our agreement because you spent my pay?"

_No. I am just unable to provide the agreed payment._

"You understand that this is your third offense." Boba said, warning and reminding Jonas of _The System_.

_The System_ was the one rule Boba Fett lived by: Stay true to the agreement. Loss of any agreement terms results in death. No exceptions.

"Do I have to remind you of my penalties?" Boba asked.

_No. I am aware of your conditions Boba._

"Best act quickly then." Fett said.

Boba disconnected the communication feed and flew _Slave I_ down to the bar across the street, parking it gently on the curb.

The bar, known as Zawali's, was a place of class, sensibility, and contained a back room for those certain moments for certain people. It was as busy as the city it was established in and was full of Senators who showed their back stage selves.

Scanning the area amidst the music, drunken stupidity and useless politics, Boba Fett walked towards a hallway off the side. His friend and his former lover walked into the second room on the left. Boba waited outside the door and thought about what to do, if he should storm in or be calm and collective about the situation.

As Boba pondered, a male Bothan walked down the hallway. He was a fellow of Bothan height and like his species had brown fur, but he kept it in an unkempt way as if he had no concern for personal appearance. The eyes were a mystifying jade green that refracted light as he passed one light fixture after the other. His clothing, much like his appearance, was ragged and macabre. His white shirt sported red stains, his green jacket, which was made of a denim-sque material was frayed at the ends, torn at the sleeves and several black oil stains. The belt slightly too big, even at the last hole, and the buckle, which at one point was polished silver, was now war beaten and had grime, soot, and ash eternally embellished. The trousers were brown and was in similar condition to his jacket. The boots were black and combat issued. They were also blood stained in just about every way possible, as if he soaked them in a bath full of it. On his side was a blaster, on his back he carried a brown satchel made out of gundark-skin. A wrist blaster was on his wrist.

Boba Fett laughed as the Bothan passed. "Why if it isn't Myko the disgrace to the profession."

Myko smiled and laughed as he entered the main area of the bar, "Why if it isn't Boba Fett, the disgrace to the profession."

Boba laughed again, Myko was pretty much the only person in his profession that he didn't have a quarrel or deal to make with. They had a love-hate relationship. For a brief time during the war before Boba was hired to capture Han Solo, Myko was his partner and they were successful in their operations.

At this point, Boba figured that enough time had passed for him to go into the room. He decided to play calm and collective.

The friend opened the door. His shirt was already off and his pants were three seconds from being there as well. As soon as he saw Boba Fett, his face was well, priceless.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"Oh nothing Thrassk just checking up on old friends seeing how they were coming along."

"Life is good, but coin is better." Thrassk said. "Now if you'll excuse me Boba, I have, a contract to uphold, if you catch my meaning."

"Yeah," Boba said, as he wielded his modified EE-3 and placed his index finger on the trigger. "I catch your meaning."

"What are you doing?" Thrassk repeated as Boba militantly walked inside the room and towards the bed where his former interest was on.

The room had jet colored walls and white carpeting. The bed was in a semi-circular shape and had faded white sheets that had almost turned crème. A floor lamp was behind Boba Fett who stood at the foot of the bed. Next to this lamp was a small table and a on the far wall, parallel to the door, was a large window that overlooked the city. The city lights flooded into the room, speeders and other transportation vehicles whizzed. The chrome and steel of the buildings reflected and refracted into millions of prisms and billions of color patterns that made them appear angelic. It was beautiful.

The woman on the bed, Vedis, was the Beelzebub of this situation. She was completely exposed and did not even bother to notice that Boba Fett was there.

"Hello Boba," she said, in a condescending way, "what brings you here?"

"Business." He said. "What are you doing with Thrassk?"

She didn't answer, he just looked over towards her fly and motioned with her finger. "Come here." Thrassk smiled as he got into a comfortable position on the bed.

"Do you mind?" The Trandoshan asked.

"Actually, I kind of do." Boba said.

Thrassk smiled, "Why exactly, it's not like you're seeing her anymore."

Boba walked over to the side of the bed. "Vedis," he said, "did you ever love me?"

"You made your choice Boba, you chose your job." She said.

"Only because of you," Boba answered, "everything I did was because of you."

Vedis smiled, her eyes told Boba Fett all he needed to know. She was the type of person that once you love her, she will completely forget everything that you have done for her. A prideful arrogant person, who knew that Boba still loved her, but she was obviously in it for personal gain. Boba gave her the world, everything that could be offered was given. He treated her like the heir to the Naboo lineage and she gave him empty gramercy. All she wanted was possessions, and possessions in her mind, lead to power, and power lead to more possessions. Repetitive cycle. That was before Han Solo.

"I know," she said, trying her best to hide her condescending nature, "and I'm thankful for that. Now I've moved on, and you should too."

"One question, then I'll go." Boba said as he walked towards the window, placed the rifle on his back via strap and placed his hand on the glass.

"Is this business? Or do you love him?"

"I'm sorry?" She said.

"Is this business," Boba repeated, this time turning fully around, readying his rifle again. "or do you love him?"

She didn't answer him. Once again, her eyes told him everything. Vedis smiled.

"Apologizes Thrassk."

Boba lifted his rifle and fired directly in the center of the forehead.

"What the hell!" Thrassk shouted. "Are you mad?"

"No," Boba Fett said, "just doing business."

"Was she a target and you didn't tell me?" Thrassk asked feeling a bit betrayed.

"Look at where you are Thrassk," Boba said, "then look at her. Reconsider your position."

Thrassk looked at the woman he was about to make love with. He saw the blood stain on her head and noticed that it fittingly resembled a fly. Her smile was haunting, and although there was nothing sinister about it, Thrassk noticed the nature of her. A Venus fly trap. Thrassk also noticed her eyes, she looked directly at the ceiling, a sign of meaningless love to someone she was meaninglessly attracted to. The Beelzebub of this situation.

"Get dressed." Boba said after giving Thrassk a moment to compose himself. The Trandoshan nodded and quickly dressed himself.

His dress consisted of a white tunic that was pristine white, signifying his peacekeeping efforts. Over this was a pure black chlamys, which is a woolen material that he wrapped around the right shoulder and around the back of the neck and fastened with a gold fibula that was in similar shape to a bird's wing. His trousers and boots were black and matched his chlamys. The blaster holster and belt that accompanied it were in sublime condition, not a single tarnishing. Finally, Thrassk put on gloves, also black.

"Alright," Boba said once Thrassk was finished, "walk over to the window."

Thrassk gave him a skeptical look, for Boba still looked primed to his bounty hunter instinct.

"What is this about?" Thrassk asked as he faced his 'friend'.

"Remember way back on Lafra, _that _incident?" Boba said readying his weapon for firing.

Thrassk laughed to himself, finding humor in the memory. "Oh yes, _that _incident."

"Yeah well," Boba said, aiming his weapon just slightly to the right of Thrassk's head. "this is for _that_."

He fired. The bullet hit the glass which caused it to crack severely and it discombobulated Thrassk to the point where he fell backwards. He fell, entering the sea of inspiring infinite light.

Boba quickly placed his rifle on his back and charged and dove downward.

Thrassk, very smartly, moved into a position to where Boba Fett could catch him easier and Boba maneuvered himself to where he could execute the rescue easier. Feet first. Ignition of the jetpack fuel. The only thing that worried the both of them is the traffic.

On approximately seven occasions during freefall, Thrassk was thirty seconds away from decapitation, ten away from being drilled by an incompetent driver, (because you know, it's normal for people to be shot out of a building and fall in the middle of rush hour) seven away from being burned by fuel, five away from asphyxiation, and about one away from comatose.

Boba on the other hand, on approximately ten occasions, was thirty seconds from being drilled by an incompetent driver (because you know, it's normal for people to jump out of windows and look like an apparent suicide in the middle of rush hour), ten from having a collision with an incompetent driver, and three from having an extreme anxiety attack.

Thrassk was close, dangerously close to the Underground.

_Alright Boba, let's speed things along. _

The bounty hunter did the only thing he could do, use a grappling hook. He pulled it from his belt and, using his jetpack to stabilized and straighten himself out fired said grappling hook towards Thrassk who was still falling toward death.

Five, four, three, two...


End file.
